In the midst of my tears I looked at my bookshelf and there was my journal. I had not written in it in over a year. I started to resent my journal a bit. I only wanted to report good things about life, I didn't want my journal to be filled with sadness and misery, so I stopped writing it all together. The truth is I had been feeling sad, alone, and depressed for months; I WAS NOT OKAY, and I had been lying to myself about it. I am a mental health therapist for God sake.

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